


But When You Said Hello, I Knew That Was The End of It All

by bigbidumbass



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23829712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbidumbass/pseuds/bigbidumbass
Summary: Tom is a private investigator following a case. Will is a member of the mob.They run into each other.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	But When You Said Hello, I Knew That Was The End of It All

His name was William Schofield, and Tom had been tracking him for months. 

At first, he’d seemed impossible to figure out. A shadow of sorts, invisible, melting into the darkness. He was smart- very, very smart, and that had made him hard to follow. Tom had considered giving up several times when he’d first started work on him. There had been times when Tom had been trailing him, and he’d seem to have vanished. Just… gone. Nowhere to be seen. Luckily, human error had come into play, and Tom considered it an act of fate: one of his friends had addressed him by his last name, and Tom had been close enough to hear. It was all Tom had needed to track him down.

William Schofield, 24 years old. He’d almost erased every trace of himself, _almost._ His father’s arrest records were what had given him away- taken in for a murder charge. Suspected connections to the mob. Apparently, it ran in the family. After that, Tom had been able to find records of his time in foster care too, and he was a classic runaway. In and out of houses, reports of bad behavior, getting into fights- the basic formula for bad news. Once he’d turned eighteen, he’d vanished. No one had looked for him.

Tom had printed out the one photo of Will he’d been able to find- the day of his father’s arrest. Hollow eyes, a blank stare, as his father was dragged into the car. Tom took the picture and pinned it up on his wall.

"Well, hello there, Will,” he’d said.

And then had come the bad news: another detective had pulled a sweep on the mob. It was a disaster- There was incomplete evidence of the crimes they’d committed, the ones in custody refused to testify, and several members had escaped being arrested at all- Schofield among them.

Tom had tried to protest, but it had gone to trial and been sentenced anyway. He’d grieved over the loss of the case- the mob had only been convicted of _two_ murders, out of the eleven that Tom had been suspecting. Several members were not even imprisoned for life. It was one of the worst scenarios, and Tom couldn’t believe how messily it’d been handled. As a private investigator, Tom had already had a distaste for the police, but this had really confirmed it. He’d tried to find the remaining missing members, but they’d vanished, naturally.

Of course.

\--

It was two weeks after the case had been sentenced- he’d walked home after looking through a new case he’d been hired on. As he walked, he couldn’t help but feel as though someone was watching him, but when he looked around there was nothing. But, as he turned a corner, there he was. Will. Far away, softly talking to someone. 

It was impossible to get closer without being seen, so Tom watched until Will walked away

Then, against his better instincts, he followed him. Trailing Will was a pain in the ass, as he was always looking over his shoulder, and Tom stayed pretty far behind him. Will was only out of his sight for about two seconds, the two seconds it took him to round the corner. But when he crossed over, Will was gone. Again. 

He walked a little more, looking down the street, but it was as if Will had vanished into thin air. Tom sighed, his face in his hands. And then he noticed where he was, and a chill ran down his spine. Dark, the worst part out of town. 

“Shit,” he muttered. 

Hearing a noise further down the street, Tom backed into an alleyway. As he slipped further into it, he felt a breath on his neck behind him. Turning to react, he struggled, but it was too late- he found himself shoved him against the wall, a knife at his throat. It was Will, slightly out of breath, and he pressed the blade against the bare skin of Tom’s neck. Tom shivered at the chill of the metal.

“Hi, Tom,” Will greeted him. 

_Shit._

“You know who I am?” Tom asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“You’ve been following me for months,” Will breathed. “Did you think I hadn’t noticed?” 

Against his will, Tom was noticing how good Will smelled- and his brain fumbled for a response.

“A bit, yeah,” Tom replied, and Will smiled. 

“You’re funny,” he said softly, sounding almost surprised. “But I can’t exactly let you ruin everything.”

He pressed the knife in further, and Tom wondered if it was drawing blood now- he could almost feel it dripping down his neck, could almost smell the metallic notes of it.

“I think we should talk about this,” Tom said desperately. 

Will leaned in closer, against his ear.

“Well, _I_ think that you should give me a single reason that I shouldn’t slit your pretty throat right now, Blake,” he murmured, so softly that Tom almost missed it.

“I’m funny,” Tom replied, and this got a chuckle out of Will, but he pressed the knife against his throat still.

“Wait, listen,” Tom said, grasping the top of the hand Will held against his throat. “You saw the trials, you must have known the police didn’t have shit on you. If I burn all my evidence, they won’t even know you exist.”

Will halted at this, the knife still against Tom’s neck, but not with pressure now. A single moment of weakness, not enough to escape, but enough to surprise him. Deciding to take the opportunity, Tom leaned in and kissed him. 

That very much surprised him, at least. Will started a bit, then leaned into it, his knife still at Tom’s throat. Tom gripped Will’s jacket, pulling him closer. Still not enough to get away. He bit Will’s lip.

That did it. Will moaned and leaned in, and Tom grabbed the knife and spun, pressing Will against the wall now, his own knife against his throat.

“Shit," Will panted, out of breath. “Nice move.”

“Thanks,” Tom said, out of breath too. 

“So, now what?” Will asked. “Are you going to bring me in? Or just kill me?”

Tom shook his head. “I don’t work like that.”

Will stared at him. “You know,” he said smugly, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoyed kissing me.”

“Maybe I did,” Tom replied. 

“Maybe you should do it again,” Will suggested.

Tom grinned, shaking his head. “Surely you don’t think I’m stupid enough to fall for my own trick,” he said. “I’d rather not die tonight.”

“Worth a try,” Will said dryly. “Did you mean what you said about the evidence?”

“That the police didn’t have shit on you?” Tom asked warily. “Yeah, I meant it. They’re fucking idiots.”

“And how do I know that you won’t turn me in the moment you leave?” Will asked.

“Because I fucking hate the bastards,” Tom said. “They had their chance to listen to me and they didn’t, and I’m not going to do them any favors now.”

“Sounds like you don’t like them very much,” Will said, tilting his head. He seemed a bit unphased at the blade against his skin. 

“I hate them,” Tom confessed. “And they hate me.”

“They hate me too,” Will said. “Maybe we’re not so different.”

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other, tense.

“I’ll strike you a deal,” Will finally said. “Walk away, and I’ll do the same. And after this, I promise not to kill you.”

“How am I supposed to trust that?” Tom said.

“Because I keep my word,” Will said. “I suggest you take it.”

Tom looked at him. “Fine,” he said, but didn’t move.

“Are you ever going to let me go, then?” Will asked.

Instead, Tom kissed him again, surprising himself. Will leaned in, kissing him back, running his hand through Tom’s hair. Tom was halfway through asking himself what the hell he was doing when Will bit his lip. That woke him up a bit, and he pulled away.

“Bastard,” he said, glaring at Will’s smirk.

“What, didn't you like a taste of your own medicine?” Will asked.

“I’m going now,” Tom said, relaxing his hold and taking a step back.

“Can I have my knife back?” Will asked.

“No,” Tom said firmly.

Will shrugged. “That’s fair, I suppose,” he said.

“Now, I assume you wouldn’t like to be stabbed,” Tom said, “So don’t follow me.”

Will nodded, eyes fixed on Tom.

Tom left the alley without another word.

Adrenaline was coursing through his body, and he kept checking over his shoulder, but no one was there.

“Jesus, what the hell was that?” he asked himself.

Lord, it was a curse to be gay.

\--

That night, he sat on the roof with a bottle of whiskey, looking through all the evidence he’d collected on Will. Then he burned it all, just like he’d promised. He was still shaking a bit, and he took another swig. As he got into bed that night, he despaired to himself that the best kiss he’d ever had was from a member of the mob.

“C’est la vie,” Joe would have said.

Tom nearly laughed at that to himself, alone in his room, then turned off his lamp. He was almost asleep when he heard a noise, and he nearly flew out of his bed, his head turning with possibilities. It was Will, climbing through his window.

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed.

“You know,” Will said, “You shouldn’t leave your window unlocked, especially when it’s right next to the fire escape. You might find boys climbing through it.”

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought we made a deal?” Tom asked.

“I said I wouldn’t kill you. I’m not here to kill you,” Will told him.

“Oh, thank god for that, _such_ a relief,” Tom spat sarcastically.

“Relax,” Will said, sitting down next to him. “You dropped this. I’m only returning it.”

He handed Tom a photograph, and Tom let out an exhale.

“Christ,” Tom murmured- it was the only picture he had left of his dad. It had been in his jacket pocket- no wonder it had fallen out.

“Who is that?” Will asked. “Your dad?”

“Yeah,” Tom said, placing it on his nightstand. “Thanks.”

Will stared at him for a moment. 

“Well?” Tom said, “Is that all or are you here to kiss me too?”

Will grinned. “If you insist,” he said, and then he kissed Tom with a tenderness that surprised him. Tom gripped Will’s shirt for dear life, worried he would fall off the bed. Will shifted, moving them both to a more comfortable position and climbing on top of him. As Will kissed him again, sweeter, deeper, Tom ran his hands through Will’s hair, then, feeling a bit cocky, yanked. Will leaned into the action, chuckling.

“Christ, you like it rough, don’t you?” he asked

“Guess you’ll have to find that out,” Tom said.

“Oh, I plan to,” Will said, moving in for another kiss.

Suddenly, he pulled away and Tom froze, worried he’d done something wrong.

“Tom,” he said, “Tell me what you want. Do you want me to fuck you?”

Tom suddenly felt very vulnerable, but he answered truthfully: “Yes. Please.” 

Will trailed his thumb along Tom’s jaw.

“I want you inside me,” Tom whispered. “I want you to kiss my neck and tell me how much you want me.”

“I want you so fucking bad,” Will growled, planting kisses along Tom’s throat.

“God,” Tom breathed. Will continued down his neck, but Tom suddenly wanted to see Will, to _touch him._

“Stop,” he said, and Will obeyed immediately. “Take off your shirt.” 

Will grinned, yanking his shirt over his head. _Fuck,_ he was hot, and Tom didn’t know what he wanted more- to be him or to fuck him. He decided upon the latter, running his hands over the toned skin, focusing on how beautiful he was.

“Well?” Will asked. “Still want me to fuck you now that you’ve seen me without a shirt?”

“You look like… a Greek god,” Tom said in awe. “I want you to fuck me about ten times more now.”

“Your turn,” Will said, tugging at Tom’s shirt.

Tom lifted it over his head, feeling a bit self-conscious, but Will simply smiled.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said, kissing down Tom’s shoulder.

Changing position, he straddled Tom, and Tom nipped on his neck, on his collar bones.

Will stopped again. “Wait… you’re a detective, you must have handcuffs, right?” he asked.

Tom grinned. “Yeah, but if one of us is getting handcuffed it’s not going to be me.”

Will shrugged. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Tom’s heart skipped a beat.

“Alright,” he said, scrambling off the bed.

Will watched him as he grabbed his bag.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Tom said, and Will gave him an innocent pout.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Smug,” Tom said, retrieving the cuffs. “You always look so smug. Like you know something that I don’t.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Will said, grinning wickedly. “I thought we both knew you wanted to fuck me. Wasn’t that common knowledge?”

“Shut up,” Tom told him, grabbing Will’s wrists.

“Oh, make me,” Will said.

“Careful, or I just might,” Tom said, gently cuffing Will’s wrists to the bedpost.

Will looked up at his wrists. “This isn’t where I imagined I’d be tonight,” he said. 

“You’re welcome,” Tom said.

He straddled Will and leaned in, slowly leaving hickeys down Will’s neck.

“You’re a tease, aren’t you?” Will said, tilting his head back.

Tom was high on the spontaneity, the newness of flirtation. 

“I’m enjoying it,” he told Will. 

He continued, softly nibbling on the crest of Will’s neck, then moving up for a kiss. Making out with a hot mobster hit different, and he ran his hands through Will’s hair, down his back. Will bit his lip again, and this time Tom leaned in as Will deepened the kiss. Trying to multitask as they kissed, Tom ran his hand down Will’s chest until they brushed against the fabric of his jeans. As he left soft kisses on Will's neck, Tom unbuttoned them and pulled them down.

“Fuck,” Will muttered softly.

“What do you mean? I haven’t even touched you yet?” Tom said.

“Fuck off,” Will said.

Leaning over towards his nightstand, Tom grabbed a condom and ripped it open with his teeth. Will let out a soft gasp as Tom applied it, hips rolling into the action.

“Christ, you’re desperate for this,” Tom said. “Pretty soon you’re going to be begging me to hurry up.”

“I don’t beg,” Will said.

“No?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have to change that.”

“Good luck with that,” Will said, but he groaned all the same as Tom _slowly_ stroked his length.

“Shit,” Will murmured, resting his head against the bed frame.

Tom, meanwhile, was having a great time as he watched Will’s every expression- the internal debate of whether or not to beg.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” Tom asked, enjoying Will’s attempt to remain silent.

“Shut up,” Will spat through clenched teeth.

“What?” Tom said, a bit too happily. “I’m just trying to have a conversation.”

“Fuck, stop teasing,” Will grumbled. “Fuck!”

“Ask nicely and I’ll think about it,” Tom said, slowing down even more.

“God,” Will whined, grinding into Tom’s hand, “You’re a bastard.”

“I know,” Tom said. “That’s my specialty. Now are you going to ask nicely?”

Will debated for a second, clenching his jaw, then sighed. “Fuck. _Please._ ”

Tom grinned. “That’s all you had to say,” he said softly, and then he took Will into his mouth.

Will was longing to run his hands through Tom’s hair, but they were still cuffed to the bed.

“Jesus,” he moaned, arching his back.

Tom picked up the pace, running his hand along Will’s hip, savoring the sound of Wills moans.

Will was close now, grinding his hips with Tom’s rhythm.

“Fuck!” he panted. “Fuck, don’t stop!”

Feeling rather bastardous, Tom halted for a moment, then quickly resumed.

“Oh, fuck you,” Will said, “Fucking… bastard!”

And then he came, _hard,_ so hard that Tom couldn’t help but feel extremely satisfied with himself.

“Shit,” Will said softly. Tom gently kissed Will’s thigh, then sat up and cleaned him up a bit. Reaching for the key, he undid the handcuffs, noticing the start of bruising on Will’s wrists. Feeling concerned and a little guilty, he gently rubbed the area.

“Shit, sorry,” he said. 

In response, Will kissed him, rolling Tom over and pinning him to the bed. 

_Fuck,_ Tom thought breathlessly.

“Thought we were done?” Will murmured in his ear. “I thought you wanted me inside you.”

“Oh, I do,” Tom said. “Please continue.”

Will laughed, nuzzling Tom’s neck, then kissed his way down.

“I’m assuming you have lube?” he asked.

Tom nodded to his nightstand, and Will reached to the drawer and pulled the bottle out. As Tom started to unbutton his jeans, Will gently grabbed his wrist. 

“Let me,” he said, taking over.

Tom wanted to memorize Will- he was beautiful, and Tom wasn’t naive enough to believe that he’d ever see him again after tonight. So he studied his expressions, only snapping back to reality when Will started jerking him off.

“Oh fuck,” Tom said, burying his head into Will’s neck and gripping on to his back. “Christ.”

Will was good, really good, paying attention to what Tom liked. And fuck, his hands were hot. Fighting the urge to grind his hips into Will’s grip, he buried his hands in Will’s hair, wanting him.

“Will,” he said. “Fuck me. Please.”

Will didn’t need to be told twice, and he grabbed the lube, rubbing it in his fingers to warm it up.

Tom started a bit at the sudden contact of it as Will prepped him, but tugged Will closer into him until Will was on top of him, inside him. Will started off slowly, watching Tom’s reactions. Tom wanted more, more.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping Will’s arm. The feeling of sinewed muscle under his hand only turned him on more, and it didn’t help that Will was planting soft kisses, along his neck, his jaw, his lips. Will was building a steady rhythm, one that brought Tom closer to coming with every thrust.

“I thought you were going to find out if I like it rough,” Tom told him, and Will stopped. 

“Turn over,” he instructed, and Tom obeyed.

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Tom said. 

Will gripped Tom’s hair, and Tom lost coherency for a moment. He couldn’t even start to think about how much he liked that. As Will started to fuck him again, this time much harder, much rougher, Tom clenched his hands into the sheets.

“Shit,” he cursed. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Will was a bit too distracted to respond, breathing heavily as he thrusted into Tom, yanking on his hair. Tom moaned, burying his face in the sheets. _God,_ it was so fucking good. As his climax started to build, he clutched the sheets again, so hard his knuckles went white.

“Fuck,” he groaned, slightly muffled. “Harder.”

Will obeyed, and Tom ground his hips into the bed. He was _so close._

“God,” Will growled, pulling at his hair again. “You feel so fucking good.”

That did it- Tom came, so hard and so long he was pretty sure he saw God. Which was an accomplishment as he was an atheist.

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” he said as he slowly recovered, turning up to look at the ceiling. “No one has _ever_ fucked me like that.”

Will chuckled, out of breath, lying down next to him. 

“So…” Tom said, not knowing what to do.

“So?” Will asked.

Tom shrugged a bit, looking over at him. “So what now?” 

Will sat up, grabbing his boxers off the floor. “Good question,” he said.

Tom quickly followed after him, pulling on his underwear. It was awkward now, and he didn’t know at all how to remedy it. Will, however, seemed less tense about the situation than Tom. Sitting on the bed, he gazed at the photograph on the nightstand.

“What was he like?” he asked, nodding over at it.

“My dad?” Tom asked. Will nodded.

“He was… strict,” Tom said, hesitating a bit. “I never felt enough. Most of the time I hated him- he wanted me to become a doctor, never let that go. But when he passed... I guess I never realized how much I loved him until I lost him.” He sat down next to Will, who scooted a bit closer to him.

“I’m sorry,” Will said.

Tom shrugged. “It was a while ago. I’ve learned to live with it.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I hated my dad,” Will said. “Honestly, I’ve… I’ve never been happier than when he was locked up.” He paused, drawing in a breath as his eyes fixed on the ground, then went on: “He hit my mom. Me, as well, but… never as bad. He had this sick fondness for me, thought I would be his partner in crime, but I despised him. When he broke my mom’s arm... I could’ve killed him that day. I broke his nose. And when he got taken away, I promised myself I wouldn’t be anything like him.”

Tom didn’t know how to respond- this was beyond his conversational skills in every way. He resorted to taking Will’s hand. Will gave him a smile, squeezing Tom’s hand in reply. Tom was honestly a little shocked that Will was still here, as he hadn’t taken him for one to exactly hang around after sex. In fact, Tom had expected him to book as fast as he could.

But Will was here now, talking to him. It was strange, Will seemed to want to know everything about him. Not anything pressing, either, just small details, trinkets of information, like what his favorite color was, his favorite book, favorite movie. And Tom asked him questions, too- careful ones, favorite food, favorite hobby, favorite memory. When the conversation had died down and when Tom was on the verge of sleep, he expected Will to get up and leave. Instead, Will turned over and wrapped his arms around Tom, nestling his head next to Tom’s shoulder.

Tom had never really been cuddled before- the one serious relationship he’d been in hadn’t been a fan of that. It was nice, comforting beyond words, and with every breath Will took it brought Tom closer to sleep. 

The last thought that Tom had that night was that he was extraordinarily happy.


End file.
